Em-i-lishttp://www.em-i-lis.com/Tue, 14 Aug 2018 01:06:53 +0000en-USSite-Server v6.0.0-15112-15112 (http://www.squarespace.com)Musings from a servantless, stay-at-home, cooking-obsessed momHello, hello, we're all back: camp and a protestParenting &amp; FamilyPoliticsEm-i-lisTue, 14 Aug 2018 01:52:02 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/hello-hello-were-all-back54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b722b2d4ae2375114c86901Y'all, driving to and from Maine (from MD) in six days in a rented van in order to pick up your children and their extensive baggage from and say goodbye to sleepaway camp after six weeks is not for the feint of heart. It is not a trip I will replicate anytime soon.

That said, J and O were blissfully happy at camp and cannot wait to return. J cried and cried during the closing ceremony, and my heart was full of gratitude for the joyous, adventurous summer he and Ol had. Neither missed screens or electricity.

The celebration of boys and their development, of nature and living intimately and compassionately in it, of simplicity and togetherness, of tradition and of emotion and connection was palpable in every memory shared, joke recounted, and bit of growth noticed. Plus, Jack gained 8 pounds. This camp is a very special place, and we all look forward to returning next June.

Once gone, we found a live spider in Ol's trunk, some of their clothes seemed shellacked into grotesquely dirty homages to day spent in dirt, some of their possessions are flat-out gone, J jubilantly showed me how his Nalgene bottle had survived being run over by a truck, and Ol matter-of-factly informed me that his record for wearing the same pair of underpants topped 11 days. I'm ill. Don't even get me started on dealing with their finger- and toe-nails. Vomitous! And y'all, I am not a germaphobe or clean-freak.

Long story short, camp scored 100% but we will return home in different fashion next year.

Shortly after completing eleven loads of laundry and settling back in, the one-year anniversary of the heinous white supremacist affair in Charlottesville arrived. I am telling you, life never stops. This year, the "fine" supremacist folks planned to march not only in C'ville but also in DC. Hell no. Yesterday (Sunday) morning, I donned seersucker shorts and pearl earrings (tee hee) and headed downtown to march with a dear friend against the bigots.

We counter protesters were many, an energetic, compassionate, fed-up motley crew who simply are not interested in tolerating racism, fascism, trump, or any shitty, backwards shit here. In addition, the police presence was huge. I admit that my stomach hurt a bit as we approached Lafayette Square where the Right's rally was officially located. But we saw not a one, and at last count, I heard that no more than two-dozen racists showed themselves.

racists encircled in yellow

All in a day, or a week as it were.

]]>The PH 5 and two epic road tripsParenting &amp; FamilyProduct ReviewsMusingsEm-i-lisThu, 02 Aug 2018 00:43:12 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/the-ph-5-and-two-epic-road-trips54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b6248451ae6cf1aa3f3c3e4First thing this morning, the electricians came to hang my PH 5. My excitement was palpable, and I regaled them with the story of how we acquired the lamp and tenderly carried it home in our hand baggage, thanking kind flight attendants along the way who smiled at the misshapen, slightly oversized parcel, and kindly tucked into their coat closet and my overhead bin.

So you can imagine my mouth-agape-slo-mo-horror as one of the electricians (two of the nicest guys) bumped the just-hung lamp from the plate that attaches it to the cord, and we all watched it FALL TO THE GROUND with a crash.

"Please tell me that it's not dented," I gasped.

"I am so sorry," one of the guys said as he handed me my very dented lamp. Y'all, time stopped. I took a deep breath, told him I understand how sorry he was but could he please give.me.a.minute, and gingerly assessed the damage. Fortunately, I was able to mostly reshape the shade, but the entire fixture was slightly off-center and no one could get it back on the mounting plate.

I did feel so terribly for how terribly I knew these guys felt, y'all. I had literally JUST told them that this was a thirty-year-old treasure that I had carried home from Denmark. And then bam. But still. And there is a gash in our newly-refinished floors.

I took another deep breath, bid them adieu, met with a darling client, picked my mom up from the airport, called Tom, and decided not to think about things until he, my dear and infinitely capable husband, got home.

Readers, he fixed it. Mostly. It is such a gem, and I just love it. And now Mom and I are sitting here, me writing, she puzzling, under the perfect, non-glare, non-shade glow of Henningsen's genius.

Tomorrow, she and I embark on a road trip to Maine. We are going to get the boys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

While this road trip will be fun and special for many reasons, it also marks the 20th anniversary -to the month- of the road trip we made from Lake Charles (Louisiana) to Philadelphia to move me to graduate school. For that occasion, she had caps monogrammed for us: Thelma and Louise, Road Trip '98. She was Thelma, I was Louise, and we were going to make that endless Uhaul-towing-a-car drive fun.

A windshield crack started on the passenger side early on. That side mirror shook SO violently that we wondered if it up and broke the windshield. In any case, that crack travelled all the way across the windshield as we drove east and north. Somewhere in Mississippi, we pulled into a truck stop for gas, and there Mom bought a truckers manual. We filled in various bits of information about our "rig" all the way to Philly and managed not to have to back up once. We couldn't, so doing so really wasn't an option.

We actually did have the best time, and since then, the hats have marked important times in our lives: my wedding, my sister's wedding, and now this trip to Maine. I sent mine home a few months ago so Mom could get the monogramming done at the same place she always has. Sadly there are new owners, and they seem to have zero humor or joy, but alas. The hats look great.

We are renting a minivan in the morning, packing up, and heading out. We'll stop in Philly, for the obvious reason but also to see one of Mom's friends, and on and up and into Maine by Saturday for the camp parent social. After pick up on Sunday, we'll make our way back down, arriving home on Wednesday, all together once more.

]]>Pies and kidsCooking &amp; EatingEm-i-lisWed, 01 Aug 2018 02:37:04 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/pies-and-kids54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b6119372b6a28724feba16fI can hardly stand it, y'all. This Sunday -just 4.5 days from now- I will lay eyes on my boys for the first time in six weeks. The letters have slowed as have spottings of them in the once-weekly camp photo album. I saw Ol from behind today, but that's it since mail last week. Which I think means all great things. BUT, I can't wait to get my mitts on those two.

OMG, how precious are his legs?! The kids are in line signing up for War Game team preference.

In the meantime, I've been working and nesting and making lots of pies. I taught a fab class last weekend: a dad and his daughters. How dear. We made two pies, and I have since finished the one that was in the fridge and made two more.

tomatoes, spinach, basil, chives, feta, mozzarella, eggs, and milk

lemon meringue pie

Plus I have overhauled the boys' rooms and bathroom, even teaching myself how to install dry wall anchors, repair wood trim, and caulk. Hear me roar. Y'all know how I love to paint. Mamma mia does everything look sharp.

This has been a great summer, good for all of us in so many ways. I feel grateful. And I cannot wait to hug J and O.

]]>A new delicious salad and a pieCooking &amp; EatingEm-i-lisSat, 28 Jul 2018 01:36:59 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/a-new-delicious-salad-and-a-pie54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b5bc48370a6addd33a20486I am bushed tonight, y'all, but it's been a productive, good week. We received several letters from the boys; Jack sounds positively ebullient, and Oliver does too, in his own understated way. No one who knows him will be surprised to find that with all manner of found object -stones, cobwebs, pine needles, etc- he has erected Tent 7 Town Hall underneath his tent (they're raised structures) at camp and is running it in his down time. We know not who else participates in T7TH but perhaps that doesn't matter.

I am really starting to miss them and will be beside myself with anticipation one week from Sunday when I first get to lay eyes on them. Aah!

In the meantime, a beautiful pie and a new salad to share.

The pie is a strawberry rhubarb balsamic. Because yesterday was so humid, I could take great liberties with my oil-based crust. It's often quite finicky but is a snap on a wet day. So, fleurs.

And this salad arose from a burst of creativity and a need to use up some produce. I shaved a bulb of fennel and a nectarine, halved a few cherries, and chopped some fennel fronds and mint. I had some pepper-crusted goat cheese and roasted pistachios too, so those went on, and then I drizzled the whole thing with salt, freshly ground pepper, peppery olive oil, and some pear balsamic. Dreadful photo, scrumptious salad. Summer on a plate!

not the prettiest photo, but alas

]]>8 things to do in both Copenhagen and StockholmCooking &amp; EatingTravelEm-i-lisTue, 24 Jul 2018 00:05:44 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/8-things-to-do-in-both-copenhagen-and-stockholm54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b56415003ce642b5e0bc906I am chagrined by how far off our trip already feels. While it has been nice to be home, as in our house, it's hard to be back in the horrific, embarrassing, cruel dysfunction that is the US right now. Honestly, I've been trying to avoid the news as much as possible and am instead throwing myself into work (I just love my clients, y'all!) and home improvements. Hear me roar, people. I have been a renovating maniac in the kids' rooms and bathroom.

In any case, a number of folks have asked my thoughts on things to do in Copenhagen and/or Stockholm, so without further ado and in no particular order of love...

Copenhagen

Eat one or more great meals. There is a LOT of truly excellent food in Copenhagen, so treat yourself by taking advantage of a culinary mecca. I have no doubt NOMA is marvelous so if you can get a reservation (I never could and not for lack of effort), go. If not, Amass was really special (see my review here). And so was Reffen which is the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of price and formality but is as delightful and good. While the former two are reservations and sit down and impeccable service and rounds of dishes, Reffen is an RV park of food trucks and happy people. We loved it so much we went twice. You can see some of my photos and read a bit more here. If you're near the University and want a really good lunch, try Paludan Bogcafe (books and food). (We were underwhelmed by the food at Aamonns 1921.)

In addition to eating well, drink well! I was totally jazzed by Danish beers. Not Carslberg, although sure, it has its place, but the local breweries putting out exceptionally good brews. My favorites are the IPAs. Try those from Jacobsen and Nørrebro (the Bombay).

Skip the cabs! Walk, ride bikes, use the terrific public transportation system. Not only will you get exercise and see the city in a much more intimate way, you'll also save a lot of money as cabs in Denmark are expensive!Donkey Republic is a mighty rental bike presence in Copenhagen. The bikes are sturdy, have racks and elastic bands to hold bags, AND have handlebar-mounted phone holders which is great if you're using your phone for maps. We rode daily, often for miles and hours. Get the Donkey Republic app and you're good to go. Equally user-friendly is the Danish DOT app which not only tells you all the bus and train schedules but allows you to easily purchase tickets whenever you need them. This is great to both avoid queues at the ticket kiosks but also because there are no kiosks on buses so what are you going to do?! (See below for what the apps look like in the app store.)

Speaking of bikes, participating in a bike tour is a great way to get an overview of Copenhagen and learn some interesting stuff about the city at the same time. First thing the morning after we arrived, we did this three-hour small group tour and thought it was terrific. Our guide was fun, knowledgeable, and the tour helped us know what to go back to and what to not bother returning to (Den Lille Havfrue, the Little Mermaid, for example. She is lovely and I'm glad I saw her but she is tiny and mobbed and I was happy with the five minutes we spent with her in passing).

The Free State of Christiania, aka Freetown Christiania. This 85-acre commune of roughly 850 people sits in the Christianshavn area of Copenhagen. Founded by squatters on an abandoned military base in 1971, it is a gritty, hippie place that for several decades did not pay taxes. Residents do pay taxes now but it remains a semi-autonomous town with its own flag and rules about cannabis use and sales. There are cafes, galleries, green spaces, and you can take pictures anywhere except on Pusher's Row. When you leave, a large gate reads: You are now entering the EU. This is a good article about Christiania.

Vor Frelsers Kirke. The spire atop this church was one of my favorite sights in all of Copenhagen. We passed it repeatedly, and every single time, I had to stop and take a photograph. You can climb to the top which is cool and also offers you gorgeous views of Copenhagen, the Øresund straight and bridge, and even to Sweden on clear days.

Day trip options: It's easy and quick to take a train from Copenhagen central to Malmö, Sweden, capital of the southern region of Skåne and third-largest city in Sweden; to Lund, Sweden, an ancient university town that is also home to the famed Lund Cathedral; and/or to the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art in Humlebæk, a Danish town 35 km north of Copenhagen. While we did spend two full days in Malmö (click here for 7 things to do), we weren't able to make it to Lund or the Louisiana despite wonderful reviews of both.

Amager Bakke and the nearby wind turbines. Amager is a state-of-the-art combined heat and waste-to-energy center whose design also makes it a ski slope in wintertime. As Copenhagen is flat as a pancake but full of outdoor-activity enthusiasts, this design decision is a brilliant one. And Amager is really attractive to boot. Denmark produces so little waste that it is now importing waste to burn at Amager. The link I included above provides more fascinating info about the Center. Near Amager, you can get up close and personal to quite a few wind turbines. Their gentle swoosh is utterly hynotic, and it is extremely cool to watch them adjust to wind direction and speed in real time. Denmark has plans to be independent from coal, gas, and oil by 2050, and it seems well on its way to achieving that goal.

BONUS idea for design fiends: Go to the Danish Design Museum and ogle the large collection of renowned and influential Danish chairs; watch the fascinating video on Børge Mogensen; and learn more about the Japanese influence on Danish design as well as the evolution and import of Danish design overall. Go to vintage markets (Port 33 Vintage is great) and home stores like Illums Bolighus and take in Danish design old and new. You never know what you'll find (see what we found here.)

Stockholm

Eat one or more great meals. As in Copenhagen, we had some extremely sophisticated, delicious, accessible food in Stockholm. In both cities, the food was of a place, using local ingredients and prepared using, or inspired by, traditional methods, flavor combinations, and so forth. We cannot recommend more enthusiastically both Ekstedt (make a reservation well in advance) and Kagges (reservation not as crucial but why not). Wow, wow, memorable and fun. If you are hankering for non-Nordic food, try Cafe Brillo. We had a superb pizza there, complete with mozzarella di bufala. Sturehof is also supposed to be excellent. Swedish pastries are not, as far as I could tell and boy did I try, particularly good. Use the calories on beer/wine instead...

So, once again, drink well too! The Swedish beers weren't as consistently good as the Danish ones, but there are some very good local breweries. I was super-impressed by the unique, cool, extensive wine lists in many places we ate, and by the enthusiasm for and knowledge of them by restaurant staff.

Fotografiska. This photography museum was one of my favorite places. As y'all might know, I am passionate about photography, especially, but not limited to, portraiture, fashion, and nature photography. As it turned out, the two main exhibits at Fotografiska were shows by Cathleen Naundorf, a Parisian fashion photographer, as well as the founders of SeaLegacy, Paul Nicklen and Cristina Mittermeier. The first was fun and beautiful, and the second was one of the most powerful exhibits I've ever seen. I was reduced to a quietly sobbing mess quaking in Tom's arms. That is what the best photography can do- move a viewer to an emotional depth that is unexpected or tucked away. I will never forget the SeaLegacy show nor will I ever understand why more (all?) people don't work ceaselessly to save our environment and natural world.

The Nobel Museum. This museum is relatively small and unassuming but full of great and interesting information. I highly (!) recommend taking the free tours offered regularly. Each lasts 30-40 minutes if memory serves. On ours, we learned a lot about Alfred Nobel, his will, the reason behind splitting the Peace and other Nobel awards, the rationale behind which institutes are assigned to choose which winners, and so on. One of my favorite parts was the Literary Rebellion visitor participation activity: any visitor with something (hopefully intelligent and rooted in having actually read the book) to say about any of the Nobel Literature prize winners books that are on display can write a note and place it in the book. Notes looked like so many red feathers, sticking up from the many gems studding the room.

Walk, bike, and boat! Yes, once again I urge you to skip the cabs (less expensive than in Denmark but still not cheap) and walk, bike, and boat through Stockholm. Much of it is beautiful, with treasures to the eye everywhere. As well, Stockholm is spread across an archipelago. Many of the central islands are connected via bridge but some require ferry to reach. Unfortunately, Donkey Republic has not yet been welcome in Stockholm. So, you'll have to settle for the City Bikes which are fairly dinky and have nowhere to put bags or phones. To access the bikes, you have to bring your passports and money to a participating 7-Eleven store (I'm serious; 7-Elevens in Scandinavia are NOT what they are in the US. You can get bikes, train tickets, quinoa and paleo meals...it's both weird and nice.), fill out the applications, get your card, and then you can go access the bikes. Get the app so you can find stations to drop off and pick up from. Also, keep in mind that Stockholm has steep hills so prepare to use your bike gears and stand up to pedal when duty calls.

Speaking of boating, take a day- or overnight trip to one or more places in the Stockholm archipelago. If we'd planned ahead, we'd have booked a night at a hotel on Gotland and taken the ferry over one day and back the next (it's a 6+ hour ride; or we'd have investigated cheap flights into Visby). Since we didn't, we went to Grinda, another island suggested by a Swedish friend. Grinda was lovely- we spent 90 minutes kayaking around it, a half hour hiking around, and then had an overpriced but lovely lunch at the (one of two) restaurant there.The Waxholmsbolaget ferry is inexpensive and provides a calm, beautiful way to wind through the archipelago. You need no advance tickets. Just pick it up on Södra Blasieholmshamnen or Strandvägen, both of which are centrally located. If you head out onto the water, wear sunscreen!

The Vasa Museum. This maritime museum's main event is the resurrected and restored Vasa, a 17th-century warship that sank not an hour into its maiden voyage. It lay submerged for more than 300 years before it was lifted in 1961. The ship is magnificent, and the salvage techniques are fascinating. Plus, this museum is literally the only place in all of Sweden at which we found air conditioning- it's to keep the boat in good condition, but during hot Swedish summers, it also keeps people in good condition!

Should you want additional day trips, places we wanted to go but didn't make are: Uppsala, a university town (the university was founded in the 15th century for the love) and fourth-largest city in Sweden (and home of fictional St. Stefans, the psychiatric hospital in which Lisbeth Salander was held prisoner for two years). Uppsala is about an hour's train ride from Stockholm; and Artipelag, a cultural "destination" with art, photography, design, and dining that's about a two-hour boat ride from Stockholm.

BONUS idea for fellow Girl With a Dragon Tattoo nerds: go to Södermalm and find Fiskargatan 9 (the fancy apartment Lisbeth buys) as well as the locations/facades where the Millenium offices and Mikael Blomkvist's apartment were filmed. Fun. ;)

]]>Amass and Ekstedt: reviews of two more great restaurantsRestaurant ReviewsCooking &amp; EatingEm-i-lisFri, 20 Jul 2018 00:44:51 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/amass-and-ekstedt-reviews-of-two-more-great-restaurants54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b4c3ee8f950b741b8d3cb64Our first eagerly anticipated dinner was at Amass in Copenhagen’s Refshaleøen area which seems to a gentrifying industrial park (where Reffen is, too). I love that kind of locale. Because cabs are very expensive in Copenhagen and because T and I like pretending we're locals, we took the metro and then a bus (the 9A, which would become a regular for us) and then walked the short remaining distance to the restaurant complex. This would be nothing remotely interesting except that I had on a mini skirt and 4" stilettos, a) because I didn't know what Copenhagen expected re: dress code in nice restaurants, and b) why not? I love to dress up? It was a date. Etc.

It should be noted that while I wore that mini skirt again later on our trip, I did not wear those infernal yet truly magnificent heels. #cobblestones #4" #publictransportation In any case, Amass had this genius and lady-centric stairwell, so I was in good stead there (LOL. Puns.)

Seriously. Why is this not de rigueur?

As we would experience so many times on this trip, the service at Amass was a perfect blend of friendly, knowledgable, and uber-skilled. The servers worked as a team; you never knew who would bring you what, but each knew exactly where you were and what you wanted, and it was just a touch of magic. The nightly menu is a fixed one of various size: we chose the largest in terms of course number and never once regretted it.

view from our table

We started with a pappadum-like crisp made from potato skins and dusted with green garlic and fennel powder, served with a potato-skin dip drizzled with fennel oil.

Then a fennel broth with mustard green oil and flowers, an insanely fabulous bread made from fermented potatoes, yogurt, and flour alongside kale-two-ways dip. I must have this bread in my life again. And, as another aside, that gorgeous vessel in which the dip was served? Yes, it's made by a Danish father and son ceramics team, Aage and Kasper Würtz, and you can bet I attempted to buy one (per my tendency to buy beloved items from restaurants). Not possible BUT the pottery was sold at Illums Bolighus, and I pilgrimaged to the: Copenhagen, Stockholm, and Arlanda airport locations. Only to be denied. I did purchase two plates and a bowl -gorgeous- but I really wanted this extreme-wall bowl. Alas.

Then onto a fava bean and cherry with lemon miso salad, and then a tiny 'burrito' of cured mackerel with cured egg yolk and horseradish wrapped in a Swiss chard leaf. The latter was a standout item.

On to what was absolutely one of my favorite-ever dishes, roasted beets with black and red currants and beet reduction vinaigrette. Y'all, I cannot even describe the marriage of earthy, sweet, tangy, and smoky in this treat. Lawd!

Then, a rare cut of beef aged approximately 978 years with flowers and more (honestly, by this point I was just going with it) and then a s'more and then, a top-three highlight, malted barley cream with rhubarb sorbet and gratinee of herbs. I really do not know what to say about the malted barley cream except that I wish it were a mandated daily staple in my life. That is written/said with zero exaggeration.

It was the best meal we had in Copenhagen and certainly one of the most memorable of our lives. If you are in Denmark's capital area, do make a point to eat at Amass. You do not need stilettos. Just bring an empty stomach!

Ekstedt, a Michelin-starred restaurant in Stockholm’s Östermalm district, was one of the very best meals Tom and I have ever enjoyed. Opened by chef Niklas Ekstedt in late 2011, the eponymous eatery manages to offer exceptionally creative dishes crafted from the best quality local ingredients while remaining warm, friendly, and utterly without pretension. We looked nice but didn’t have to dress in an overly formal way, which we often feel makes a dining experience even better.

Ekstedt offers a fixed menu each night --five courses with the option to add on two additional dishes. You are welcome to add a wine pairing or order drinks a la carte, and the restaurant lets you know in advance that you should plan to spend roughly 3 hours enjoying the meal. You are also, in advance, welcome to note any allergies or dietary restrictions you have so that they can accommodate your needs. I don’t eat offal or baby animals, for example, and they had beautiful and equally delicious replacements for, say, the smoked reindeer heart that was chopped into the “Nordic taco” Tom started with. I had some gorgeous forest mushrooms.

The service was the smoothest choreography of professionalism, deep knowledge of the menu, and sincere enthusiasm for taking diners through the culinary tour: the kitchen and wait staff are having fun, and it shows. The lighting is dim enough to be relaxing but not to hide the food or strain middle age eyes, and the music is a compilation of old hits. If I had to succinctly describe the décor, I’d call it rural Nordic industrial.

Following our taco amuse bouche, we had a beautiful concert of dishes including two Norman oysters, smoked, with butter, apple, and nasturtium nestled in a pile of seaweed; endive, mussels, sunchoke (was it smoked?), juniper-smoked pike perch, and an ethereal foam of some sort; hay-fired mushrooms with sweetbreads (I got something other than sweetbreads!); and a rhubarb sorbet with strawberry something and a sublime nut butter and toasted nuts.

It was a truly spectacular, inspiring, memorable meal and was worth every penny. If you’re heading to Stockholm and want to treat yourself to something special, make an advance reservation and go to Ekstedt!

]]>Kagges: restaurant review and a big reason for travelCooking &amp; EatingMusingsTravelRestaurant ReviewsEm-i-lisTue, 17 Jul 2018 20:46:44 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/kagges-restaurant-review-and-a-big-reason-for-travel54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b4e4eb28a922d199d0e7b1dOn our last night in Stockholm, we went to Kagges, a year-old restaurant in Gamla Stan. It opened in 2017 and was recently awarded a Bib Gourmand, a well-regarded honor also bestowed by Michelin. One of my New Orleans cousins had suggested we go; coming from a serious eater like he is, I'd immediately made a reservation and am so glad I did.

As soon as we walked into the tiny spot, with seven seats at the bar directly in front of the kitchen and perhaps ten other tables, we felt relaxed and at home. Given the choice, you won’t be surprised to know that we chose to sit at the bar. Tom ordered an IPA crafted by a brewery in Stockholm, and I started with a glass of cold Albariño recommended by the hostess/sommelier. We were brought the most sublime bread -Tjockbulla, made primarily of mashed potatoes; it hails from the chef’s small town- and smoked butter. I could have eaten 97 of the magnificent rounds. And we also got a darling amuse bouche- tender potato rounds with some ridiculous roe mousse and nasturtium leaves. Divine.

We decided to each order the Kagges choice, the four best dishes of the day, and were not disappointed!

Smoked and lightly charred cabbage with a Swedish creme fraiche (from one farm 100 km away; this was the airiest, creamiest, velvety'est creme ever and one of the chefs told me the taste changes with the seasons as the cows eat more or less grass! How cool is that?!) and lots (!) of roe and brown butter.

A tomato salad with two forms of the same Swedish cheese (one fresh, one aged) and lots of fresh herbs.

Cured mackerel with some sort of incredible potato cream that had been put into a whipped cream dispenser and frothed out plus salad.

And guinea fowl with bone-broth gravy (OMG!) and more salad, this one with a shallot-lemon vinaigrette to die for. "An hour on the shallots and then lemon zest and juice. Then butter, not oil" I was told.

At this point, I was extremely tipsy in the happiest, friendliest way and had been chatting with the three chefs extensively about all their methods and recipes and hometowns and such. I mentioned to one that the bone gravy was so good I could lick my plate. He reached over to the utensil rack and handed me a spatula. Is that not marvelous?

That right there tells you everything you need to know about Kagges. It wasn't as perfect as Ekstedt in terms of the food (although I have no complaints), but it managed to be seriously delicious and dedicated while not taking itself too seriously. I asked the chef who gave me the spatula while telling me about his hometown and managing several stations including a salamander how he seemed so unfettered and calm. "It's all about being from the forest," he said, and for some reason that made absolute sense to me. He said Stockholmers were busier and could be intense (meanwhile, this American from DC felt like the whole of Scandinavia was on some sort of relaxing agent, bless them!) but that being from the forest made him totally tranquil.

Meanwhile, the couple at the other end of the bar from us ^^ seemed to be enjoying their meal as much as we were and had also provided helpful translation regarding degree of bitterness in a "bitter beer" Tom was considering earlier in the meal. It make me feel happy to see everyone in Kagges so satisfied.

I asked Kalle, the main chef/one of the owners if I could take his and his team's picture (there are only five of them total and one had the night off), and they said "Sure, come back here with us."

Kalle, the guy from the forest, another forester and the one who told me about the shallot/lemon/butter vinaigrette, happy Em, and the hostess/sommelier. Is this not a fantastically fun photo?

As I headed back around the bar, I got to talking with that couple. It both helps and is enormously humbling that most everyone in Europe can speak English so well, and next thing I know they've asked if we want to go out for an after-dinner drink with them. Despite our having a 5:45am wake-up call and the man needing to work the next day, we said heck yes! So, Tom, Helen, Per, and I settle our checks and wander through the not-dark-but-late night to a bar with outdoor tables where we got beers (wholly unnecessary for me but really, you only live once). I swear I think we were outside the restaurant before we properly introduced ourselves.

They are the most delightful people, and Helen and I are already planning to mail each other seeds from our garden. We talked about politics in our respective countries and travel and welcoming people into our lives, and after Tom and I bid them farewell and began walking home, I thought once again about how food draws people together and gives us opportunities to meet and connect with others in ways we wouldn't otherwise have.

The world is so big, and it is an enormous gift to get to visit parts of it, to meet folks from places I'd never heard of until I met them, to swap recipes and stories, to learn about their families and travels and education and interests. Thank you, Helen and Per, for the generosity of your time and company.

At the airport, Tom noticed that my passport was the thick one, the one with extra pages. He chuckled, and I said I ordered those because of hope and adventure. Although we didn't fall deeply in love with any place on this recent trip, we are bigger and better for having gone and experienced a different way of so many things. America is falling the fuck apart right now. It's wrenching and horrid, but the world is big and full of wonderful people, and I find some peace in that.

]]>Malmö and 7 things to do thereTravelEm-i-lisSun, 15 Jul 2018 14:33:11 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/malmo-and-7-things-to-do-there54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b4b40de575d1fa91f24a63aOur few days in Malmö provided a lovely smaller-town respite between Copenhagen and Stockholm. Malmö, the third-largest city in Sweden, is the capital of Skåne, the country's southernmost county. In addition to it being an obvious pass-through if training between Copenhagen and Stockholm, Malmö and Skåne showed up several times in the Martin Beck crime series I'm so fond of, so I figured I just had to see the place. Literary pilgrimage just a bit. ;)

Parts of it were really lovely (parts may have been those where (fictional) crimes were set), everyone was incredibly friendly, and we had some delicious food and drink. I'm not saying you need to make a special effort to visit Malmö, but if you're there, here are some recommended to-dos.

1. The Knotted Gun

Officially entitled Non Violence, this sculpture by Carl Fredrik Reuterswärd was put up in 1985. He created it after John Lennon's murder, as a tribute to Lennon's peace work and as a way to process his own grief about the assassination (Reuterswärd was a friend of both Lennon and Yoko Ono). There are several replicas around the world, including at the UN in New York and in Berlin. Though the piece is smaller than I expected, it is very powerful, especially for an American who desperately wishes the US would do something meaningful to address the gun violence raging across the country.

Non Violence

2. Malmö Saluhall

This saluhall, or food hall, has both fresh produce/meat/cheese/fish/etc and stalls at which you can order prepared food. It has a great selection! Tom went to Pink Head Noodle Bar and got a bowl of hand-pulled wheat noodles with pork, bean sprouts, peanuts, and such, while I went next door to Papi and chose the pasta with pork cheek and gremolata. Both were really delicious. On our way out of town, Tom got a pulled pork sandwich and a falafel salad for us to take on the train. Again, both were quite good. And the coffee was excellent.

3. The Turning Torso

This residential skyscraper, and the tallest building in Scandinavia, was designed by famed architect Santiago Calatrava. It was based on a sculpture he'd done called the Twisting Torso. Construction on the building, which sits on the Öresund Strait finished in 2005, and on certain days, the public can visit an observation deck on an upper floor. It's not mind-blowing, but again, if you're in the area, why not see a Calatrava work.

4. Lilla Torg

Lilla torg, or small square, is a popular plaza in the old part of central Malmö. It seems like a lovely spot to sit and enjoy cocktails as evening rolls in. We ate elsewhere both nights but enjoyed the architecture around the square as well as the people watching. (Have I mentioned my love of manhole covers?)

5. MJs hotel and bar & MJs restaurant

Just steps from Lilla torg, MJs is a wonderfully-located, welcoming, comfortable hotel with a great bar and restaurant and spacious rooms (if ours was an indicator of the usual). We couldn't have enjoyed our meal at MJs more nor the drinks and conversation at the bar with Erik. I told him I hated gin, and next thing I knew I was tip-toeing my way through a gin flight and then a Bee's Knees which is an exceptional cocktail (because the gin taste was hidden, in my opinion). The service throughout the place is impeccable.

5. Coffee and quiche at Eida

Maybe two blocks from MJs is Eida, a coffeeshop that also offers quiche, baked goods, and a salad bar. We loved it because it seemed like a real locals spot and also the coffee was wonderful. Additionally, the staff was super friendly, and my quiche was scrumptious.

6. Gamla Kyrkogården

In this park is an old, beautifully tended cemetery. It hails from the early 1820s and has been designated of cultural importance. The tree canopies, flowers, and sculptures around the lovingly kept graves make for a very peaceful, thought-provoking walk.

7. Final bits: Raoul Wallenberg park, Bastard, the Maxi, just walk and ride.

Restaurant Bastard gets rave reviews, and it's worth a visit. Not amazing, but a fun vibe, really cool wine list, and centrally located. (It's two steps from MJs.) There is also a small park dedicated to Raoul Wallenberg which is nice to see, and if you're hankering for a Super Walmart sort of place, complete with Post, gardening supplies, food and so forth, head to the Maxi. It's very near the Turning Torso. A good place for inexpensive travel essentials, and Tom also managed to find an excellent selection of Gardena garden products and we are heading home with a new nozzle for our hose. LOL.

Lastly, walk. And ride a bike if you'd rather or want some variety. Donkey Republic is a great bike rental service with an easy-to-use app, and we made great use of their bikes in both Copenhagen and Malmö. You never know what wonderful view is waiting for you to see it!

]]>Copenhagen in picturesTravelEm-i-lisMon, 09 Jul 2018 20:34:24 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/copenhagen-in-pictures54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b43b9198a922da7a7373141Amass post to come following our return to the States which, at this point in time, is nothing I'm excited about. It has been indescribably fabulous to be beyond the borders of the decrepit toxicity that is the US right now. I haven't head to wear my nightly mouthguard once since being on Scandi soil, and I have noticed yet again that the pace at which Americans race through the days is excruciatingly unhealthy. There is more to life, but it's hard for anyone to be a schooner in a tsunami.

In any case, we left Copenhagen around noon today and arrived in Malmö (Sweden) shortly after. The cities are connected by a relatively new five-mile bridge called the Øresund, and we took a quick train to traverse it.

For reasons I have yet to fully distill, I didn't love Copenhagen. Neither did Tom. We liked it, and in fact loved elements of it, but overall, it's not in our tops list. Nonetheless, a great five days, and here is a sense of the city in photographs.

^ Reffen toilet; a Refshaleøen warehouse; wind turbines; the warehouse from the other side; a Danish boat flying the Dannebrog.

^ at the Baby Baby Bar along Refshalvej; Em with ice cream on Strandgade; the rest throughout CPH; a father and son in Democratic Coffee.

]]>Our gold medal find at Port 33 VintageMusingsProduct ReviewsEm-i-lisSun, 08 Jul 2018 20:29:12 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/our-gold-medal-find-at-port-33-vintage54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b42655070a6ad05d073e088As I mentioned, one of the reasons Tom and I included Denmark on this trip was to explore more deeply my mad love of Danish design. It is so clean and well designed and well made and beautifully proportioned. It is functional but it lasts.

Mogensen (who I mentioned yesterday re: the film we saw at the Design Museum) studied under Kaare Klint, a father of Danish design who emphasized top quality and perfect craftsmanship. He also felt strongly that anything superfluous to function should be stripped away. So upholstery? Out. Mogensen then worked for FDB Møbler under Frederick Nielson. FDB's mission was to provide functional, comfortable furniture to the general population.

Anyway, during this creative heyday, the preeminent lighting designer in Denmark was Poul Henningsen. For 42 years he designed all manner of lamp for Louis Poulsen, a renowned lighting manufacturer. Henningsen's various models are so common globally that you've probably seen them, or copies inspired by them, without even realizing it. Here are some examples...

^ PH Artichoke; PH 3½; PH 5 ^

Yesterday, on a break from eating pulled pork sandwiches and tacos, we walked to Port 33 Vintage, a market just outside of Reffen's back entrance. It is a huge warehouse full of dust and treasures and junk, the sort of place you have to spend time searching through but in which might be some gold medal discoveries.

As I meandered through vases and port glasses and broken kids' toys and seemingly infinite mid-century chairs, I spied what looked like a PH 5. Dirty, yes, but the metal screens were unbent, the spacers were all in alignment, and the colored parts were the most delightful red and blue, one of my faves. I checked the neck, and there was the label: Louis Poulsen. Model and other original markers were there too.

I started to get the total-body feeling of thrill. Here I was. In Copenhagen, the birthplace of Poul Henningsen, to see Danish design in the flesh. And a real piece, not a remake could maybe be mine. I texted my darling cousin who is a designer.

"Doll- it's em and I'm at a vintage market in Copenhagen where I have found this original Poulsen pendant. What do you think?"

His response was to "Snatch that up and never let go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I negotiated to 1050 Danish kroner which, even knowing that the cord needed replacing and not knowing exactly what I'd find under the accumulated dirt, I knew was a fabulous deal.

After the renting of the bikes and going to and from Christianshavn to find an ATM and knocking on the closed market door with a beer once finally back but after watching England score the first goal, the dealer told me how to take the lamp apart should I need/want to and packed it in a filthy, ancient box. I promised I would carry it home as a personal item. He was such a dear.

On the metro home, a random Dane peered into the box and said, "Oh! A vintage PH lamp. Did you just find it?"

"Yes," I said. "I just got it at a vintage place." He asked how much, I told him, and he was all "You got a GREAT deal. Especially since it's the red one. That's the best. Usually those go for around 2000 or more kroner. You are lucky. Great find."

I felt smugly wonderful in front of Tom who thus far had largely supported this mad endeavor simply because he loves me. Which is absolutely enough, but I suspect there may have been an interior eye roll in Port 33. There are NO more eye rolls now. Darling man immediately started researching authentic replacement cords (he found a great site and ordered everything today after we saw the current PH 5 models [version 6 now] in a store today). Cooler than cool is that we are nearly certain that ours is a version 3 manufactured here in Denmark in 1988 AND this year, 2018, is the 60th anniversary of the PH 5 lamp itself!!

I am just in heaven. What a special find on a special trip! We carefully took the lamp apart, cleaned it all (unbelievable what great condition it is in), and packed it in the materials we'd brought (I always travel with both bubble and foam wrap, tissue paper, and packaging tape) plus the repurposed box from the market. I can't wait to see this beauty hanging above my reading chair in our room.

]]>KøbenhavnCooking &amp; EatingTravelEm-i-lisSat, 07 Jul 2018 20:39:32 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/kbenhavn54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b4110b2575d1f7f8976747bWe arrived in Copenhagen early on the morning of the 5th and have been going full steam ahead since. The weather has been spectacular, a wonderful reprieve from the steaming pea soup we left behind in DC.

For most of the first day we walked around getting our bearings and enjoying the Danish Design Museum. We are staying in the Latin Quarter, across the street from the University of Copenhagen. Founded in 1479, it is one of the oldest in Europe, and the main building is quite beautiful.

the University of Copenhagen

The Design Museum was undergoing some (seemingly needed) renovation but we very much enjoyed the 20th century and Danish Design Classics exhibits. There was a fascinating film on Børge Mogensen, the famed Danish furniture maker, and an eye-popping collection of all the Danish chairs that inspired mid-century design and (many of which) remain beloved and revered. One of the coolest things I learned was the great degree to which Danish artists and designers were influenced by Japanese art, especially the way nature was expressed and honored through it.

On a wall outside the Danish Design Museum: what remains after some of the ivy was stripped from the wall. I just love this.

Dinner on day 1 was at Aamann's 1921, a warm, stylish place whose chef, Adam Aamann, has updated the humble smørrebrød, an open-faced rye-bread sandwich traditionally loaded with mayo and meat, to a refined dish with more vegetables and herbs. Now known as the King of Smørrebrød, Aamann also makes the soaps for the restaurant bathrooms, and seemingly everything in between.

Our meal was a beautiful one but not terribly memorable; most dishes, including both our smørrebrøds (see the salmon one below), needed salt. But the service was impeccable, the ambiance inviting, and two of our choices, the BBQ ribs of free-range port, new onions, and rocket sauce, and the potato compote with pine shoots, gooseberries, onion, and bacon, were marvelous.

Yesterday we started with a three-hour bike tour around Copenhagen which was really helpful in knocking out a number of sights in a single, educational way, and it was fun. Like Amsterdam, Copenhagen is a major biking city. The Little Mermaid? Check. Amalienborg, home of the Danish royals? Check. Churches and harbors? Yep. Plus the Free State of Christiania, excellent history and exercise.

^clockwise from top left: Nyhavn (New Harbor); the amazingly cool spire atop Vor Frelsers Kirke; my first snegle; a croissant (Denmark is known for its pastries).^

^the Free State of Christiania, a commune with delineated borders inside of Copenhagen. Though residents (~800) were once excused from paying taxes, they now do. Though you are really not allowed to sell marijuana in Copenhagen, the police seem to have given up enforcing the rules within Christiania. The only thing banned on Pushers' Row is taking photographs. It's a neat place although sadly, the original hippie ideals are giving way to drug-based crime and a rather impoverished life within (according to our guide).^

Last night was dinner at Amass. But "dinner" does the experience an injustice, so I'll write about Amass in a separate post. Go there if you can!

And today was a ridiculously fun day that proved over and over again that travel is the greatest education and opportunity for truly memorable experiences, that spontaneity, flexibility, and following your nose often result in magic, and that following your passions (specifically today: design and food) is always a win.

It involved a return trip to Refshaleøen, an island in Copenhagen's harbor (and where Amass is located), to spend the day eating and drinking through Reffen, an outdoor Copenhagen street food market built from repurposed shipping containers. There are food trucks, all manner of juice and alcoholic beverage, some art and idea labs, and a delightful vintage market. Due to a major finding at said vintage market, the day also involved renting bikes to head back into Christianshavn, the nearest neighborhood with an ATM, then biking back to Refshaleøen and getting a bit distracted by the Sweden-England game which required another beer and lots of cheering, then going to the market only to find it closed but determinedly banging on the door until the delightful Danish proprietor let us in with a gentle smile and an "I'd given up on you." I then explained the bike rentals and rides to and from Christianshavn, but not the half-drunk beer in my hand (sorry Sverige), to which he replied, "Oh, that is far. Well, let's pack it up."

watching the game in Reffen

The rest of that story, which includes a delightful encounter on the metro afterwards, will be detailed tomorrow. But for now, some final photos from Reffen which was utterly delicious and fun in every way.

That pulled pork sandwich was one of the single best things I have ever eaten anywhere. Also, three cheers for Jacobsen IPA and also Nørrebro's Bombay IPA.

]]>Camp, and an adults-only Scandinavian trip for twoParenting &amp; FamilyTravelEm-i-lisWed, 04 Jul 2018 01:05:14 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/camp-and-an-adults-only-trip-for-two54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b3baf930e2e72ade9599b4dWell, the boys have been at camp for eleven days, and we've received one letter from Jack (lovely and newsy) and five from Oliver (not remotely informative but extremely amusing). We have sent letters and packages and spied photographic evidence of the boys via the once-weekly photo upload we receive from camp. Last Thursday, when I called to schedule our birthday phone call with Jack, I learned that Oliver was on an overnight camping trip to an island they'd canoed to and that Jack was doing a coastal excursion where he'd see a lighthouse and study some tide pools before getting to eat lobster (I fully know he opted for the hot dog). Today I found out that Oliver also went on a four-night camping trip.

Presumably all of this means they are happy and enjoying themselves which thrills us to no end. Not least because it means they are escaping the 900 degrees with equal humidity that is DC right now.

Tom and I have continued to bask in unscheduled and quieter living. I've had a bunch of clients, made jam, gardened a ton, and seen friends.

Tomorrow we leave for our first trip abroad sans kids in more than twelve years. Despite the fact that neither of us has started packing, we are so, so excited. We arrive in Copenhagen on Thursday and have five days there before moving on to Malmö and then Stockholm. This trip was largely inspired by my love of the Scandinavian literature I've read as well as our love of Scandi design (primarily Danish and mid-century) and food. I'm also extremely interested in countries, like Denmark and Sweden, that have taken the climate change bull by the horns and are dealing with it aggressively and successfully with almost complete buy-in from their citizens. From recycling to home design to alternative fuel sources, I think it's fair to say that Scandinavia has an enormous leg up on the States in this regard. Also, we really enjoyed seeing some of Norway last summer, so all in all, a marvelous adventure to look forward to.

I'll blog from the road. For those enduring the heat wave in the States right now, stay cool. And even though he won't/can't read this (cuz no electricity at camp), please join me in wishing my beautiful Jack a happy 12th birthday. He was born at 7:14am on the 4th of July. I remember his birth like it was yesterday. I love you, Doodle!

]]>Less than a day to savor Portland, and savor it we did!Cooking &amp; EatingTravelEm-i-lisTue, 26 Jun 2018 20:53:14 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/less-than-a-day-to-savor-portland54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b327068aa4a99e79f39e447Praise be, I have my blog back. The country doesn't have sanity back, but a lot of folks are fighting the good fight. We in Maryland voted today. Here's hoping for a blue tsunami in November.

Anyway, Portland (Maine). After Tom and I left the boys last Friday afternoon, we drove back to Portland. Our flight home left at 2p on Saturday, so we figured we had 19 hours, including sleep time, to enjoy the city.

This limited amount of time was an excellent challenge. And, as we were childless, we had no need for schedule and every opportunity for spontaneity. Time to be spontaneous is the stuff of dreams, y'all, an all-too-rare thing for many parents.

We checked in, showered and changed, and headed out to dinner. Tom wanted to go to Eventide Oyster Co, and I wanted to try Duckfat, so we decided to go to both. We walked past Duckfat first so grabbed two seats at a communal hightop and ordered a large cone of fries with truffle ketchup and garlic mayo and two beers.

Duckfat fries and an Oxbow beer

Duckfat is a casual, cozy spot with big plate glass windows facing Middle St. It seems to be a neighborhood joint, the sort you'd love to be able to stroll to on any given evening. The energy was just right, our waiter friendly and helpful, and we totally enjoyed everything.

processing the goodbyes and realizing that our six-week childfree date would really be fun

After finishing the last fry, we settled up and headed down the street to Eventide. The wait was at least an hour, but because we had all the time in the world, we said, "Sure, put us on the list!" and headed next door to The Honey Paw, an Asian fusion restaurant run by the Eventide crew (chefs Andrew Taylor and Mike Wiley won Best Chef: Northeast in the James Beard Awards last year). We snagged two spots at the bar (our favorite place to perch) and ordered the charred broccolini with szechuan pepper and peanuts and the halibut crudo with rhubarb, lemon, micro greens, and fried shallots. More beer, too.

The bartender was an arse, but the broccolini was so good it prompted us to immediately begin researching woks so that I can attempt to recreate the dish asap. The crudo was delicate and utterly lovely though not the showstopper that its vegetable peer was. As we finished up, Eventide texted to let us know a table was available, but full, we declined and decided to go for lunch the next day.

Instead, we walked around and while I blissfully perused a fabulous bookstore, Sherman's, Tom got gelato. I spent a full hour just wandering the stacks, reading book jackets and blurbs in leisurely fashion, and relishing the fact that no one and nothing was hurrying me or asking for my attention. It was deeply lovely, and I feel this must absolutely be so good not only for my soul but also for my brain.

The next morning, we started with coffee at Bard. While we'd slept and lazily gotten ready, seemingly half of Portland had run a half marathon. Some of the early finishers were at Bard too, plus several parents with young kids still in jammies, and a few folks with newspapers. Like Duckfat, it felt totally local. We usually drink Hairbender espresso roasted by Stumptown. Bard's espresso was softer and a bit sweeter, but I liked it quite a bit.

latte at Bard

After coffee it was time to mosey down to The Holy Donut, a popular spot whose donuts include mashed potatoes in the dough. True to claim, the potatoes add both moistness and a soft crumb to the handcut donuts, and I could see why the line snaked through the store and out the door. Also, more marathoners, and really, they deserved treats! We got the dark chocolate sea salt and also a fresh lemon. I am a total sucker for chocolate cake donuts, and indeed, that was my absolute favorite. Also, I love The Holy Donut's give-o-meter (see photo below).

As we still wanted to eat at Eventide before making our way to the airport, we decided to walk off some calories. There are some great art spots, shops, and vintage stores in Portland, and we also discovered a fantastic flea market, the Portland Flea-for-all. With the clock ticking and room made in our stomachs, we headed back to Eventide and, wait for it, got a spot at a bar rail (not a bar, but a bar rail where you could stand up and eat).

In short order we chose the brown butter lobster roll, the fried oysters with succotash and creole dressing (sadly I did not get a photo), a wild fermented dry cider, and one of the daily specials, a cherry tomato salad with nuoc cham, cucumbers, and shiso. HEAVEN. Utterly delicious, all of it.

STOP! Just look at that steamed bun and gorgeous lobster salad and those perfect chives.

absurdly good

the PERFECT accompaniment to the food; drink this if you can find it!

Truly, I would order every single one of those dishes on a regular basis if I could. Every bite was a revelation of flavor and pleasure.

Unfortunately we did have to return our rental car and catch our flight, so we settled up and made our way to the airport.

I really liked the city. I witnessed a lot of kindness there and a wonderful sense of activism, healthful living, and pride. Mom and I are taking a road trip in August to go get the boys and bring them home, and I've dedicated a day to Portland. You can be sure we'll return to some of these spots!

]]>The boys are settled in, and now we waitParenting &amp; FamilyEm-i-lisMon, 25 Jun 2018 01:25:24 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/the-boys-are-settled-in-and-now-we-wait54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b3040f3575d1fd783b9b31eI still don’t have access to Em-i-lis on any computer so remain stuck typing on my phone. It’s extremely annoying, but alas. At least I know where my children are, and I know they’re safe and well cared for.

Our trip to Maine to move them into camp couldn’t have been lovelier. We flew to Portland, ate a lobster roll (they had chicken fingers, y’all. Sigh.), and drove to Belgrade where we checked into a darling inn, met another camper Ol’s age, took a dip in the lake, ate a truly delicious meal, lit sparklers, and tried to get the kids and their unbridled enthusiasm to bed.

lobster rolls and clam chowder at Miller Bros seafood

Camp is on a small island, and the first boat from shore wasn’t leaving until 1p. Up early, we did everything possible to pass the time, as the kids were champing at the bit to “get there.” I started to wonder if their glee would wane at all- would goodbyes actually be not so bad?

After pastries, chess, coffee, a quick visit to Colby College, a walk through Waterville (home of Colby), lunch, and a practice drive to the dock, we returned to the dock 45 minutes early.

It was a perfect, glorious day. The boys ran around with the friend they’d made the evening before. They met some new kids and dipped their toes in the water. Finally, it was our turn.

The camp sits in an idyllic, bucolic place. Everything feels crisp and clean and pure. There is no cell reception. Indeed the only electricity is in the dining hall’s kitchen. Open-sided, raised tents and hammocks dot the land. The gathering hall/library/game room is the stuff of dreams. Hogwarts meets summer camp.

We made the boys’ beds, toured camp, met other families, and started to feel a touch nervous. I don’t know that either J or O had really thought about what it actually means to not see or talk to us for six weeks. I had, which had resulted in not a few tears over the week leading up to the adventure. But thus are the lovely truths of both childhood and adulthood, and ultimately we met in the middle and cried it all out.

Forcing ourselves to gently break our embraces and kiss the boys and encourage them to go exploring with two of the outstanding counselors we met was almost painful. The boat ride back to the mainland was somber, and I waved until the boys were but specks on the horizon.

Later, via the Facebook parent page for camp, I heard from the mom of one of Ol’s tentmates that when she moved her son in, Ol seemed happy and excited. That did my and Tom’s hearts so good.

We both have a great feeling about this summer, about the ways the boys will grow and become more independent, and also the ways we will.

The 18 hours T and I spent in Portland after leaving Belgrade was a great start. I plan to share that soon- the food is off the charts delish.

We had a lovely Father’s Day celebrating Tom and talking to my dear father and getting good time with T’s dad at the beach last week. And yet the whole day was tinged with a decidedly black cast by the fact that the Trump administration has torn more than 2,000 kids from their parents at the Mexico-US border as they staggered across seeking asylum. They have a legal right to do so, and we have a moral obligation to offer safety, and yet, we are treating them as less than human, as burdensome garbage.

People don’t leave their homes unless they really have to. Unless they’re terrified or being abused or endangered or are deeply desperate due to poverty or violence or the like.

Today, able to hug and love the children that made us parents, we took the boys to a protest at the White House on behalf of the #KeepFamiliesTogether movement. It was all I could think to do in the face of the rage and impotence I felt and continue to feel.

The stories coming from the border are horrible. An infant ripped from its mother’s breast while feeding, taken away, the mother not told where. Who is feeding that baby now? With what? How?

We see photographs of sobbing toddlers, kids with sheets of foil as blankets, behind chain-link walls. Cages of sorts. We are told they get one hour outside a day, that the folks who staff the detention center are not allowed to hug or comfort them.

We read reports about strangers caring for the younger kids in their cells, teaching others how to change diapers.

We hear lies about family separation being law. It is NOT law.

We hear that NOT ONE Republican senator has signed on to co-sponsor Senator Feinstein’s Keep Familes Together Act, and so it languishes, as do the children, the babies in detention camps in our own country. One father killed himself last week just after being forcibly separated from his children; he couldn’t stand it.

A tent city has been proposed. In Tornillo, TX. A TENT CITY! In America! Is no one in the disgraceful White House with a heart? Does no one wonder what traumatizing people might reap? On our souls? On our safety?

And so we made another protest sign, filled a bottle with ice and water, and parked ourselves in front of the White House.

When will we reach bottom? When will any Republican running for re-election grow a pair and scream “ENOUGH!” At what cost does this hate and bigotry and destructive nationalism come? I fear we don’t even know yet.

Rise up, call your senators and congressional reps, donate to organizations helping at the border, be kind. Keeping families safe and together shouldn’t be political or partisan.

This morning, before I called my dad, I told my boys about a Father’s Day decades ago. Dad was attending an Episcopal church then, and I went with him that morning. A parishioner named John was there, bereft and lonely. Dad invited him home for lunch with us, no head’s up to Mom, and at our table there was room and plenty and love.

I hope that someday this country can actually be great. Can actually offer the promise of hope and dreams and opportunity and love. We're falling so short right now. I am ashamed and sorry and scared.

]]>Tony and KateEm-i-lisFri, 08 Jun 2018 23:44:00 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/tony-and-kate54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b1b0c228a922ddcbef8c0acWe lost another bright light today. Anthony Bourdain. Known to friends as Tony. He of the rakishly handsome and windswept face and hair, the tattooed arms, the bad boy past, the accolades, the larger than life life. Behind it all, it seems, was a dark gulf out of which he could not see. And we are less because he is gone.

And because Katherine Brosnahan, known publicly as Kate Spade, could not escape the darkness either. And because neither could so many others, from the darling boy in cowboy boots with whom I shared a seriously mutual crush so very many decades ago, to the siblings I knew from afar who simply couldn't be here anymore, to, perhaps, some of those who called in to the suicide prevention hotline I volunteered at while in grad school.

***

Why are there so many angry drivers, I wonder? Why do they seem so entitled to the road as their personal track? Where must they be so quickly? Why do they honk and yell and flip the bird? Even that police man who chased me down the five-lane street, side by side as my kids sat in my back seat, screaming at me through (hopefully) thick- enough glass, making obscene hand gestures at me as I deigned to honk at a driver who ran the red and cut me off when I was just trying to get my boys to swimming lessons?

Why do they speed through our neighborhood despite nearly daily pleas to slow down, because there are kids and pets and older folks and neighbors biking and walking and gardening and trying to just be.

***

I think about the article I recently read about how uniform the red carpets have become. How female celebrities no longer trust or can afford to trust their own preferences in fashion and so the likes of Cher and Bjork have given way to uniformly coiffed and pretty people. A vanilla parade of sponsored Hollywood lobbyists. Who maybe don't even know what they're selling, who they're working for, or why.

***

I amble down my driveway early one Tuesday to find my newly-emptied and freshly-bagged compost bin dripping with dog pee. I will have to clean up this mess, and I wonder who left it for me. Who saw all the grassy space all around and either didn't care or was too absorbed in their hand-held hypnotic to notice their dog urinating all over and into a neighbor's compost bin. Who didn't stop it or who didn't bother to clean it up or who didn't even notice because they were looking down instead of up, instead of around.

***

I see small children taken from their parents. I hear bluster and mendacity gushing from "leaders." I see poisoned water and overt racism and poverty and desperation. I see everyone passing the buck and kicking the can. I see that in my own front yard after a willingness to spend to repair the cheat of others results in a flooded yard and no one willing to say, "Maybe it was me. I'll fix it." It's mostly, "It was him. It was her. It's THEM." and no responsibility taken.

***

I hear the nearly-constant refrains of fatigue and overwhelm.

***

I love-hate social media and how marvelous it is to be in touch with people all over this world and simultaneously how grotesque it is to see the lengths some will go to to curate their lives and powder the pocked and shellac the dull and put a bow on it all. The meanness and judgment that come from anonymity and the ease of othering from afar.

Shut up and dosomething with your time. Go meet a neighbor or volunteer a few hours or be real and ugly cry with someone. Connect. Give. Tend. Our communities are dissolving all around us. Don't wait for a call; make one!

***

I can't help but see all these things as interconnected. I can't help but think that the vanilla'ing and the curation and the isolation and the looking down and forgoing of the basic decency of being in community with others are all related. In seriously deleterious ways.

Tony and Kate are but public examples of the pain all around. They are reminders that wealth and fame and privilege and fortune mean little in the face of depression and loneliness and the inability to feel that we can surmount the expectations that the superficial tabloid-glossy parts of society lay before us as worthy living. The inability to believe that ever will the US reckon with and excise its cancerous bits, leaving promise and room for the most who live here.

My heart hurts for all we've lost this week. Those who brought color and joy and aspiration and connection to us so often for so long. Those who were famous and those who weren't.

]]>Today was so stupid, aka almost the end of school plus ridiculousParenting &amp; FamilyEm-i-lisWed, 06 Jun 2018 23:35:02 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/today-was-so-stupid-aka-almost-the-end-of-school-plus-ridiculous54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b185e401ae6cf93c230d9caToday was absurd, and I don't mean that in a good way. It was stupid and frustrating and really unnecessary on this, the penultimate day of this school year.

Jack has been home sick for two days. Our air conditioner has been broken for nearly two weeks (merciful being wherever you might roam, it has been unseasonably cool here), and about three weeks ago, the water commission sent out a team to finally install the larger and new main that was, if you recall via the post Integrity, sprung on us as a requirement for moving forward with and completing our kitchen renovation.

The team jackhammered into the street and sidewalk in their desired location only to find a previously unmarked by live gas line buried within. Then, they did the same destruction a few feet down and seemed to meet with success, promising that the shoddy asphalt fill jobs in all the holes were temporary fixes.

Recently, our trusted plumbers got the go-ahead to connect the new line to our house, and so today, they started. I made them promise to avoid my beloved fig tree, and they worked around it beautifully, digging an abyss so long and deep that Mike Mulligan would be proud. It really stressed the shit out of me to see so much of my yard backhoed into a pile -Tom works so dang hard on his grass- and really, a day without water, not least with a sick kid at home, will give you a profound appreciation for water-on-demand.

Nine hours and three inspections and a new hole in my basement wall and the fire alarms all going off because of the soldering and the toilets now full later, we got the go-ahead to fill in the abyss.

And then they switched the water back on and THE DAMN PIPES OFF THE NEW METER INSTALLED BY THE DAMN WATER COMMISSION'S SUB-CONTRACT TEAM WHO DOES NOT NEED ANY INSPECTION OF THEIR WORK began to leak. TO LEAK!!!! Are you flipping kidding me? The water commission folks blamed it on our plumbers even though the leak was in the meter pit which even I know is off limits to anyone EXCEPT employees of, wait for it, the water commission.

Meanwhile, some guy, another subcontractor from the water commission, came with a circle saw and began slicing into the streets outside. Do they not think it's best to make sure the job is completely done before repairing all streets and sidewalks?

This has legit been the dumbest experience. This is why people only-somewhat-in-jest call Maryland "the People's Republic of Maryland" and proceed to turn Republican. Mary, mother of lords. We did get to flush our toilets tonight and shower but everyone comes back tomorrow, the last day of school, to (hopefully) finish things up.

At some point we'll get a new damn air conditioner, and at some point I have to pack for our annual family beach week which involves a more than 7-hour drive on Saturday. I admit that I am not excited about that drive IN.ANY.WAY. Also, Jack is grounded from screens so that's an extra bonus to enhance the in-car family dynamics.

I'm over today. And tomorrow, preemptively. But I do love the friends my boys have, so in the meantime, I’ll take these smiles.

]]>So much miscellany (books, movies, speakers)Cooking &amp; EatingBooksParenting &amp; FamilyTheater: shows and reviewEm-i-lisTue, 29 May 2018 01:32:24 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/so-much-miscellany-books-movies-speakers54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5b0c9ee1352f53c0a5529cb4Unexpectedly I am watching the Caps in game 1 of the Stanley Cup. This is unexpected primarily because Washington teams forever seem to blow their wads too early, and so it's slightly surprising that they've made it to the league finals. Sorry, but that's an honest assessment. See RGIII times many, for example. Though I've been a DCer since 2005, I'm still a Cubs fan through and through, and to a lesser degree, a Seahawks and Bruins fan. I think this has to do with growing up in Louisiana which has/had, prior to the Saints, no such thing as a pro team, a father who much preferred college football, having zero athletic inclination myself, and being visual enough to appreciate the aesthetics of good (and bad) uniforms.

In any case, I do love the physicality of hockey and the fact that hockey players do on skates, on ice, and in bulky gear, what some of us cannot even do on our feet, on land, and in no gear. It's really something at times- beautiful, graceful, and then POW! I love it. Go Caps!

This past week has been full. FULL, y'all! In so many ways I love living in DC- it is an embarrassment of riches culturally, and despite fatigue, I ate it up this week.

Monday: Cecile Richards (a heroine of mine) and Kate Germano (new to me but wow) in conversation with Michel Martin (one of my favorite radio personalities) at the Hirshhorn Museum. Cecile's new book is Make Trouble and Kate recently wrote Fight Like a Girl. I told Cecile how much I enjoyed last month's Planned Parenthood Metro DC gala and that I was a monthly donor to PP-IN on behalf of Wax Pence, and she said, "We all need to keep up the good fight. Tough to be a woman in the midwest in some ways, so thank you." PS- Cecile is stunningly beautiful. All three women are stunningly articulate. WOMEN!After the event, I wandered into a side garden by the Hirsshorn. It's so lovely, and I am covetous of the bug hotel there.

Tuesday: T and I celebrated our 14th wedding anniversary. It was one of the nicest anniversaries in a while, and I made a great dinner. You should all try this fried asparagus with miso dressing from Nobu. and really, when is key lime pie ever bad?!

Wednesday: A dear friend and I met other friends and members of our school community at the National Portrait Gallery for a private showing of The Sweat of Their Face with my friend and the co-curator of the show and the head of our school whose area of study and dissertation was America's working class and the various representations of it. Also got to see the Obama portraits again and the new Henrietta Lacks portrait!

Friday: Tom and I took the boys and a friend each to the opening night of Solo, the newest Star Wars story/flick. We all loved it and found it delightful. (In fact, Oliver and I saw it again today.) A) Alden Ehrenreich is a perfect young Han, and B) Donald Glover (who is always good and also hot) is a magnificent Lando, and C) Ron Howard really did almost-perfect justice to this back-story. Lady Proxima is a "no" and why does Dryden Vos have the facial scarring but otherwise, A+!!

Sunday: Cirque du Soleil with the kids. Luzia is no Kurios, that's for sure. Dang. I didn't much care for the show. The kids didn't either. The bendable man who could rest his own head in his butt crack was disconcerting, and the women don't need to be nearly naked to be impressive.Today (Monday): Solo again. It's fantastic.

Meanwhile: I finished The Complete Patrick Melrose novels by Edward St. Aubyn. I'd started reading them prior to the release of the 5-part Patrick Melrose series on Showtime staring, yes, my Benedict, and my god are they spectacular. INCREDIBLE prose, not least because the story itself is largely autobiographical. I've watched the first two PM episodes and while I do think Benedict is perfectly cast as Patrick, I found the first episode lacking. The second, while terrifically tough to watch, is excellent. The novels are magnificent. I couldn't put them down.

Alright, y'all, it's 2-2 Caps-Golden Knights. More later.

]]>My children are safe at home tonightPoliticsParenting &amp; FamilyEm-i-lisSat, 19 May 2018 02:38:40 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/my-children-are-safe-at-home-tonight54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5aff8966aa4a99a865b255fbOne of my sons has been asleep for a couple hours now, tucked in after a fun family afternoon, a good dinner, and a warm bath.

The other just got home from a school dance, sweaty and flushed and "so pumped up." He smelled a bit, but I couldn't help but hold him tight as he told me about the dance and the music and the ice cream. He's had a tough year, and I was so hopeful that tonight would be fun. It was. And now, he is safely in bed, here with us at home.

Worrying about your child having fun at a middle school dance is a typical, expected parental concern.

Worrying that your child will be shot to death at their school is not, should not be, cannot become an expected parental concern.

Today, again, more children were gunned down while simply trying to go to school. While most of us are counting down the few remaining days of this academic year, some parents tonight are instead planning shockingly unexpected funerals. With this, the 22nd school shooting of this year and the third just this week, "2018 has been deadlier for schoolchildren than service members."

If we as a nation are not mortified and ashamed into real action by that obvious disregard for our children (and the converse which is the obvious idolatrous obsession with firearms), then we are truly beyond repair.

It's the guns, stupid.

And don't even get me started on the fact that the white murderer was taken into custody without a scratch. If he'd been black, he'd have been blown to smithereens in moments.

]]>Jesmyn WardWritingEm-i-lisFri, 11 May 2018 01:49:15 +0000http://www.em-i-lis.com/blog/jesmyn-ward54a8af3fe4b057f9e39a3cfe:54f3ce69e4b0cfb8769c906c:5af450142b6a289c10f883b8Last night I had the profound fortune to meet Jesmyn Ward and to hear her discuss her most recent novel, Sing, Unburied, Sing, with Aminatta Forna. I have been an enormous fan of Ms. Ward's since reading Sing, Unburied, Sing early this year, after which I immediately read Salvage the Bones. She won the National Book Award for both books, the first woman ever to do so. I'm now reading her memoir, Men We Reaped, and have in my stack of to-reads the essay collection she edited, The Fire This Time.

If you're not familiar with Jesmyn Ward, please acquaint yourself for she is a stunningly gifted writer. Born in Oakland to Mississippi-bred parents, she was raised in DeLisle, Mississippi, as her parents moved back when Jesmyn was three. She was the first in her family to attend college, earning a BA and MA from Stanford. She also has an MFA from the University of Michigan and is now a professor at Tulane. Her family home flooded during Hurricane Katrina, and the storm, as well as south Mississippi, makes a regular appearance in her work.

A few months ago, when I heard she would be speaking here in DC, I bought a ticket as quickly as I could, and last night, no amount of fatigue or running around all afternoon with the kids could keep me from getting to the event 50 minutes early to obtain the best seat possible (thank you, dear T, for leaving work early to meet me in the parking lot and whisk the children away so I could scurry inside).

Like the lit nerd I most definitely am, I went armed with a tote bag full of Ms. Ward's books, sat in my seat like the eager student I also am, and felt positively star struck when she walked on stage. She is a luminous human with real humility and a quietly powerful presence. I could not help but beam at her throughout the evening and even mustered the courage to ask a question which, per my usual nerdiness (who remembers the three-part question I addressed to Gabrielle Hamilton?), turned into a two-part query that she was kind enough to answer in full.

She talked about how she writes, told us that beginnings are difficult for her but that she has to write linearly so soldiers on until the beginning is as it should be, that she is not the most confident writer, that her characters just come to her and then she follows them through their journeys. She doesn't like to write villians because “They’re flat and don’t engender empathy or interest. People are complicated. I don’t want my readers to feel easy emotions.”

She talked about why she writes, and why, despite her "love-hate" relationship with Mississippi, she moved back home after her brother's untimely death.

"I am trying to bring forgotten stories from the violent past back into the light and into the public memory and imagination." Stories before her time but also during, as the only black student at an all-white high school one of her mother's employers paid for her to attend. Stories about beloved men -brothers, friends, family- lost to poverty, drugs, racism, and happenstance.

Why?

"Because there is an effort to disavow and rewrite that history. That results in its continuation." Same root, same violence. We see it every day.

Regarding home. "I left as soon as I could. But I have a huge family, and they are all there. I was missing out, time I couldn't get back...Living at home keeps me honest and lends urgency to my work." For, as Ward softly averred, "The violence of America endures." When asked by Ms. Forna if she believed a truth and reconciliation effort a la Canada's might be needed here, Ms. Ward replied, "Yes." Firmly, resolutely, "yes. But is there the will? Not now."

Ms. Forna replied that indeed, "the absence of a will to reconcile with its past is shocking for visitors to America."

After reading several passages, shyly really, or perhaps just humbly, and answering all our questions, Ms. Ward received a standing ovation that brought me to tears. Then, in a largely polite fashion, people queued by number to have books signed and share a few words. Fortunately for the five books I had in my tote, the limit on signed copies was five. I had one inscribed for a dear friend and the others for starstruck me.

I was grateful to have the brief chance to be near Jesmyn Ward, to thank her for sharing her profound gifts, to wish her the best in her next endeavors. I was grateful to have a supportive spouse, to live in a city with such rich resources and opportunities, to bear witness to the strength and resilience and diverse beauty that really are what make America special.

I was pensive on my drive home, speechless really. Tom and the kids were playing Monopoly despite the late hour. I poured a bourbon and made some scrambled eggs and sat at our kitchen table considering that Ms. Ward might still be signing books and hoping that she felt full in good ways. That she could feel and ingest our gratitude and admiration and that perhaps those sensations might offer her some company when her confidence falters or the loneliness of a blank page is undesired.